Ren of Tree Hill
by John T Morgan
Garden of the Gods, Tennessee 1845
It was late. The sun had set two hours ago, and the deep black dark of night was beginning to set in. A rancher's cabin sat in the middle of an eighty-acre farm located in the valley nicknamed Garden of the Gods near the small town of Tree Hill. A herd of cattle almost too big for the farm rested near the barn. The cabin itself had two small windows covered as if the contents inside were purposely verboten. There wasn't another dwelling for almost a mile.
Inside the cabin, a family was sitting down to supper. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and the four people sitting at the table were eerily quiet. Renfrew Brown, known as "Ren," sat at the table, struggling to stay awake. His dog, Blaze, was watching him silently from the corner of the room. Sitting completely still and silent for a long time didn't help Ren keep his body from trying to shut down. His ten-year-old frame beat and bruised after a grueling day working on his father's farm. Actually, it was his stepfather's farm now, and his stepfather continually made that point very clear. Ren's birth father planned to teach his boy how to farm and raise animals and then pass the farm down to Ren, but he knew his new stepfather never would. Tonight, his stepfather, Magnus, had been eating for almost an hour. In the fields, Magnus worked ferociously. But, at the dinner table, he lounged, almost unnecessarily. His stepfather's plate was empty, and he was going for seconds, which meant Ren would not get dinner tonight. His mother sat across from him stone-faced, still and silent. Ten minutes later, Ren, his muscles aching and his belly hungry, slowly reached his hand toward some food at the edge of the table, trying to sneak a tiny bit of food unnoticed. Pain flared upon his right temple as his stepfather's cup shattered across his forehead. Sounds of his baby brother crying from the other room filled his head as he faded out. Ren briefly regained consciousness only for a few moments to realize he was being dragged outside through the fields towards a patch of woods on the property's far edge. Ren faded out again.
Some time had passed before sounds started forming inside Ren's head. It was the woods beginning to wake up for the day. A penetrating cold enveloped Ren, and he opened his eyes. Only one eye would open; the other was swollen shut. The sun wasn't up yet, but dawn would be arriving soon. Ren tried to sit up but couldn't. He felt a heavy weight covering his body. He was buried under a layer of mud with only part of his face uncovered. Ren started to fade out again until he felt something wet and slimy run across his face and flinched slightly. It happened again. Ren opened his eye, and a grin formed on his face as he realized it was his dog. Blaze had uncovered his head from the mud. He tried again to get up. This time he was able to pull an arm out of the wet earth. His dog pranced around with excitement. It took some time, but Ren pulled himself out of the shallow mud grave where he was left to die. Luckily, he was stronger than his stepdad believed him to be; or at least he was so far. But, his thoughts were slow, and his body was so cold. He had to get warm. He pulled himself up into a low thick Juniper tree where it was a little warmer. Blaze snuggled up against him. He looked out towards the direction of his home. His mother thought she found salvation with his stepfather after his birth father died. She did not. Magnus was brutally cruel. By the time she discovered his cruelty, she was pregnant with his child and felt her only option was to endure. Ren loved his mother and his new baby brother. But he knew he couldn't go back home. His stepfather now thought him to be dead or dying. His only option was to leave. Ren pulled some pine boughs in close to him and snuggled closer to his dog. The sun would be up soon and bring warmth with it. Now would be his time to leave. All he had was the mud-soaked clothes on his back and his dog, but that would have to do. A few minutes later, Ren stood up, and he and Blaze walked west, away from his home, and away from Tree Hill.
Tree Hill, Tennessee, 1852
Ren hiked up to the top of a ridge and looked down. The sun had set, but the blue light of twilight still illuminated the land. Below was the home he left seven years ago. There were no lights and no signs of activity. There was no livestock, and the fields were overgrown. Ren surveyed the land that he used to know so well. The land had moved on while he was gone. Trees and brush had taken over areas once cleared, and the cabin and outbuildings were in disrepair. A twinge of sadness sprang up in Ren's mind at the reminder of things lost in his life and the thought that maybe his mother and brother didn't fare so well after all. Ren walked back down the ridge to his mule. There was a storm coming in, and the winds were starting to pick up. Ren climbed back up on his mule. He had several miles to travel to get to town. He removed a deerskin poncho from one of his saddlebags and draped it over himself, and rode on towards town as the storm picked up.
The ride into town was beginning to get tough. A bitter wind howled across the land, and rain began to pelt his face and body. The rain was cold and heavy, and the night was getting late. Ren's mule was struggling. He needed to find shelter soon. Ren came to the top of a slight rise in the land. Down the slope in front of him was a river, raging from the recent rains. Off in the distance, on the far side of the river, Ren could see the faint lights of a small town. The town he left years ago.
He came to the river that was now raging violently from the storm. The wind gusted and nearly knocked him and his mule over. The town would have to wait. Maybe he could find a place to cross in the light of day. Ren stepped off his mule. Trying to build a fire in this storm would be futile. He pulled his mule along to a small break, away from the river, then removed his bags off the mule and ate the last scraps of food left in his pack. His rapidly growing teenage body constantly demanded sustenance. After pulling off the saddlebags, he watched his mule lay down. She wasn't as young as she used to be, and this trip was arduous for her. He strung up his rain poncho between two trees and underneath his hammock and underquilt and crawled in for the night. As he began to warm up and drift off to sleep, his thoughts drifted to the past, thinking of his mother and brother and the dog Blaze he once had.
Ren quickly walked through the stream the following day as the water was less than a foot high. He left his mule back at the overlook. It would make a good camp, and it wasn't near any trail or road. Once Ren made it to the other side, he sat on a large rock and put his dry boots back on. He had left most of his gear back at camp, except two items; a canteen and his whip. The whip was unassuming, but he knew how to use it well, and it had saved his hide more than once.
Ren approached the town. He kept his head slightly down with his hat on, which slightly masked his face. The city was composed of the main street running about five blocks with another row of blocks on each side. It seemed both larger and smaller than he remembered from his childhood. After passing half a dozen homes, Ren entered the town proper. One of the first businesses Ren came to was a mercantile. That suited him just fine. Ren walked through the doors and right up to the counter.
"How can I help you" A large man came out from the backroom.
"Some jerky, please, venison would be fine."
The man reached under the counter. "It's a nickel a stick," He stated as a question.
"I'll take three." The guy handed him the jerky wrapped in paper. He paid the guy, thanked him, and left the store.
Ren sat down on the bench near the storefront. As he ate his jerky, he took in the town. It was still reasonably early, but it was starting to come to life. A few men were walking around and a couple of families. There seemed to be a lot of activity at a large building on the far side of town. Several wagons were loading people. As the four wagons passed the mercantile heading out of town, he noticed all the wagons comprised of children, children that looked sullen, sickly, and just plain beat. About an hour passed, and nothing eventful occurred until an older man walked out of the shop across the street. The older man noticed Ren immediately and paused. Ren looked away but could see out of the corner of his eye that the man was now walking directly towards him.
As the older man approached, another man came out of the mercantile behind him. "Hello, sheriff," he said with a mocking tone.
The older man didn't respond but just kept walking towards Ren and sat down on the bench next to him. As the other man walked off, he looked back with a smirk. Once the other man was gone, the old man inquired, "You're not from here, are you?"
Ren looked at the old man, "No, my family and I are just passing through." The older man nodded.
"Are your parents here in town?" "No, they are back at our camp making some repairs to our wagon."
"Oh." remarked the old man.
"Are you the sheriff?" Ren asked.
The old man paused, "By name only," he shrugged. "Anyway, you might want to steer clear of this town without your family. I know you're not a little kid, but this town isn't safe for kids, even young adults."
Ren didn't respond, but the older man just kept looking at him. "Well, in any case, you should be gone before that other guy comes back around." The older man got up and went inside the Mercantile.
A few minutes later, Ren walked out of town, west, towards his camp. About halfway to his camp, he noticed the wagon tracks that contained the children all turned south. Ren looked to the south and surveyed the land but didn't see anything in the distance. He continued walking towards his camp, but after a hundred yards, he turned south and walked through the light brush paralleling the wagon trail.
After a few minutes, Ren came to a small river, probably the same river that flowed near his hidden camp. Ren followed the river upstream as it appeared to go in the same direction as the wagons. Traveling was easy until he started entering some rocky hills, which made following the river much more difficult. Ren abandoned following the river and moved off closer to the wagon trail. As Ren climbed out of the river bottom and onto a slight rise, he froze. His eyes filled with terror. Ren was looking into a pit filled with bones.